Hey​.​.​.​You Make Me Feel A Lot

by Old Ephraim

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released March 17, 2014



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Old Ephraim Eugene, Oregon

I'm a guy with a beard that feels things and writes songs about it.

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Track Name: Disencumbered
Circles means a daughter
Straight lines a son
An acorn at the window
Copper on your tongue
Amber beads around your neck
The catharsis of prayer
Rabbits foot on a key ring
It's a worrisome envy I bear

You don't think I wish I could have that peace,
that sweet release?
Just to believe to believe in something?
But I'm not afraid of fear,
year after year,
an unburdened man I am becoming.

A bird in your rafters
Cross on a tomb
Dreamt a muddy river
and halo circled moon
Deluded Heraclitus
Tenets in duplicity
Still I waver slightly
A desire for simplicity

Lamarck, pass this conceit.
Festinger; rational, discrete
Turn the 1 Wason
Challenge these tales of caution.
Track Name: Asleep
It's all just white noise and hums
Sparkles in the magpie's nest
Can I explain when the time comes
of these demons by which we're possessed.

A mare's nest: my mind
A world barren and forlorn
A house full of laggards
Who show no question or concern

Insides twisting and turning
Feeling abashed and unnerved
Tongue tied, I'm lowly but...
"We accept the love we think we deserve."

It's really all we can do.
Track Name: Epistasis
Cower, and realize you're so lonely.
So you abide in something holy.
Something to reconcile.
Sour, they touched your tongue with acid.
Happiness never could have lasted.
Denial's so versatile.

Sorrow fills my heart my poor nestling.
Hiding is never the best thing,
for one in reveries.
Hollow promises, mere whistles and bells.
Distractions from acquisition's well.
Never alimentary.

Beguiled and young
You have been broken
Your wonder's been stolen.

When will you learn?
Track Name: Ghosts
Malevolent shadows, here I wonder
Those without touch, can you harm me?
Numb hands reaching for my collar
A soreness of my own esprit
Qualms of conscience, does it matter?
Morals cannot exist without you and me
Wounds and scars, if self afflicted
the sequestered, could not be perceived obscene.

"One reaches out...but gets no hold of us."
Never thinking of the past
Repression of what really ails me
Dancing 'round all questions asked
But these specters so persistent
Constantly humiliated and harassed
I can only hope that these ramblings
Will one day be unsurpassed.

Thanatos lingers and whispers secrets
Splitting us into duplicity
Ghosts leave imprints on our memories
Leaving translucent imagery
Drawing question to my mind's eye
Now I doubt it's validity
Unsure of any of my actions
These apparitions have taken control of me

So to answer my haunting question:
Can the unseen commit abuse?
These devils, though strong, can never hang you
Only teach you how to tie the noose.
Track Name: Volume
Chill out chatterbox!
Why can't you be quiet for 15 minutes?
It must be some sort of disorder,
but the human language has so many limits.

It's not a competition
You know, quiet is nice too.
Your incessant talking gets on my nerves
Clenching my fist is all I can do...
to keep from hitting you.

Quiet down, chill out.
Fuck off, don't shout.
Settle down, shut your mouth.
Shut up and get out of my house.

Your mouth is not enough?
You have a new electronic device
to bother me when I'm not here.
Well, let me give you some advice...

It's all just a static now.
Track Name: Chrysalis
How can I perceive
everything around me
when nothing is real anymore?
Questions are the sea
waves crash around me
and we are the whales that are washed ashore.

Now easy pickings
screaming and kicking
dragged away by the beasts.
We must go willing
insides twisting and spilling
when we let go we are released.

We are now the trees
winds dance through our leaves
seasons shaping the way we grow
but every single eve
our bounty's stolen by thieves
these are trials we must undergo.

Taking and giving
is the cost of living
but there is one thing you cannot steal
one thing you're entitled:
knowledge unbridled
don't allow anyone to take your zeal.
Track Name: The Hardy-Weinburg Effect//Dissecting Frogs
I want to die like Nietzche
Fighting in the street despised by many.
I want to die like Jesus Christ
Speaking of miracles but really telling lies.
I want to die like an unwanted stray
only a bullet left where my body lay.
I want to die like Budd Dwyer
you'll watch me die calling me a liar.
I want to die like Mark Twain
leaving this world in a comet's flame.
But I want to live like me, personally,
to inspire happiness and bravery.

When I die I want everyone to say...
I'm in a better place.
When I die I want everyone to say it was too soon.
Because I know it will be untrue.

When I die all I really want is to be remembered.
Track Name: Soul Mates?
Where am I going? Where I belong.
There was good and bad there all along.
Counter intuitive, wrong it seems.
Almost convinces me there's a meaning.

"But really I was thinking," I say with a smile,
"you really weren't there, all the while
I cried in the bathtub. Across all those states.
I made it this long without you for fucksakes.
Don't take this the wrong way, I love you, I'm thankful.
But I could think of four things more painful
than loosing you, like castration, being eaten alive,
being skinned over a long period of time,
and maybe freezing."

So don't tell me our meeting was fate.
I could never think of a concept more fake.
It's a happy coincidence, just a chance,
that we met and I got in your pants.

...but I'm thankful that it happened, I promise.
Track Name: Life In Pursuit
Gather what's around us
with all this interference.
If we didn't judge by
politics or appearance.
Imagine the possibilities
with a little perseverance.
One gifted mind might
devise some coherence.

I can walk around all day
with no direction.
But until there's some goal or dream
I'll make no connection.
The soullessness of the techno age
is an infection.
We have to look into our eyes
and love our imperfections.

Come now. Lift your pretty head and smile.
Somehow don't get lost in the crowd.
Everything you do breathes life into you.
Have meaning; live life in pursuit.

Tracks without a train
are meaningless.
And life from the same
perspective is weakness.
What fills us with love
is our own uniqueness.
When we deny ourselves
it leaves me speechless.

Come now. Somehow. Everything. Has meaning.
Track Name: Judith the Lion Tamer
An archaic devise, used for centuries.
Built and woven, draining us empty.
It's hard to tell where this exhibit ends or begins.
A sad man's breakfast: a stomach sour.
This is the life of a coward.
Yet you welcome it to your chagrin.

Speech coaches to hide her accent.
And hatred to make her descent.
An equinox of her inevitable fall.
Detrimental and capperclaw
Her mouth is like a buzz saw.
Cutting through trees that stood so tall.

A spark then insurrection.
No matter how much protection.
Broken; induces great recoil.
Onlookers gasp (but that's not appalling)
Bleeding, begging, and crawling.
In the end, the beaten receive the spoils.